


curiouser and curiouser

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Childhood Friends, Feelings Realization, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: Ignis takes his charge on an ill advised adventure, and a hero comes to the rescue.Written for day one of Gladio Week on twitter.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27
Collections: Gladio Week





	curiouser and curiouser

A sudden, awful creak from down the hall fuelled the very darkest of Ignis’ nightmares. It drew out long enough for each hair to rise along Ignis’ neck, unbearable and haunting, grating on Ignis’ last remaining and unbearably shredded nerve.

Terrified, Noctis trembled, sprawled out in his arms. Between them both Prompto was sunken and silent, eyes only for the door they had foolishly and in their haste left ajar. His hands clung to Ignis’ untucked shirt.

They were nothing but borrowed energy and roiling anxiety. Ignis fought against every instinct to breathe silently and remain still. He failed, but still hushed his friends. “Don’t be scared,” he croaked, knowing it was too late.

Noctis’ shoes pressed against the tile. He pressed himself harder against the wall and deeper into shadow. The soles of his shoes squeaked and Prompto couldn’t help but flinch. “He’ll find us,” he moaned. “Iggy…”

“Hush,” he said, sharper than he intended, and the children under his care cowered.

It was silly, Ignis knew. It was the kind of game that little boys played. Each of them should have stayed where their parents could watch over them. _Don’t go far,_ they always called. _Stay where Amais can see you_. And still they had snuck away giggling, so proud and pleased. Now they cowered, blubbering, and the control Ignis so sought and admired was slipping.

They should never have come here. All of Ignis’ life he was told it wasn’t allowed, _prohibited_ , Ignis had heard the Crownsguard murmur as he played underfoot. Too dangerous for children. It was below ground where no natural light could guide them and few of the cleaning staff were seen coming and going. The underbelly of the Citadel was no place for the precious prince – and Ignis had felt the call of adventure, as surely as his prince had.

And that was not all – the ‘glaives spread fascinating stories of those who walked these halls, those who crept and skulked. Kings and servants, those who passed on and breathed their last in famed circumstances. Those who disappeared without a word, never to be seen again. And Ignis believed. No matter what his father said with a roll of his eyes, he trusted Nyx – Uncle Nyx would never lie.

“Y’know, they say,” Nyx always said with a wise gleam in his eye, and Uncle Libertus always groaned. Nyx resisted the hard shove that he gave his shoulder and wove tales of Noctis’ ancestors, long passed on and embittered. One such king would skulk the halls and moan, looking for his long lost treasures, and if one very lucky person saw him he might lead them to his wealth – or perhaps he would chase them down and terrify them until their hair turned as white as snow.

Ignis had drawn up onto his tiptoes and listened eagerly. “What treasure,” he asked, gleefully, “what king,” and Aunt Crowe had shaken Nyx’s other shoulder hard, still smiling from ear to ear. “Tell me,” he pleaded.

And Nyx had eagerly shared every little rumour – his jewels, his daggers, and the silk of his fine robes. How he moaned so terribly it was worse than the wildest winds. It would make their bones tremble, the ground shake, and Ignis swore that he would know no fear. He would lead the Prince forward into glory as he swore he always would.

But then the corridors grew darker, narrower, and all life fled. Silence settled amongst them all and as Prompto’s infectious anxiety burrowed beneath their skin, Ignis’ own had begun to crawl. Every rare noise rattled within his skull. Noctis’ hand grew clammy, clutching Ignis’ tighter and tighter.

“I’m scared,” Noctis had said even before they heard the very first of the moans.

They came from down a long and sullen hall. Ignis stopped dead and Prompto collided with his back, grunting softly and tearfully complaining. He whined and whined but then the moans sounded again, louder, and each of them froze.

There was the softest movement down the furthest reaches of the hall. Over their own harsh breathing came the creak of a door, a haunting murmur of voices – and snatching the hands of his friends Ignis turned tail and fled. Their shoes squeaked and squealed, traitorously loud.

Now they lay tangled in the far corner of a linen room. It was the very furthest reaches, beyond towering baskets full of bedsheets and cloth, and the smell was wonderfully familiar. Soft and clean, like fresh pyjamas and a warm night in bed. But his belly remained cold, guts tied up in knots, and they cowered helplessly. Prompto sobbed all the while – _I don’t want white hair, I want dad, Iggy…_

The creaking grew closer. The moaning was gone but it still filled Ignis’ ears, curling around his head and heart. He trembled upon the floor with his thoughts of adventure cowed. He wanted to be amongst the flowers again, sipping juice, clamouring for Uncle Regis’ attentions.

Closer and closer – Noctis buried his head into Ignis’ chest, whimpering. The past approached and Ignis prayed that the spectre might pass them by, to no avail. The door shifted, pulling further open, and Ignis summoned all the courage he could.

“Go away, he hiccupped, unbearably shrill, and the door stopped suddenly.

For a moment Ignis held his breath. Even Noctis peeked up with lashes heavy with tears. They waited with bated breath – and then Gladiolus’ head peeked around the door, wearing a deep frown. He stared at them incredulously.

“Here you are,” he said, as exasperated as any of their parents. “Thought that was you running around the corner.”

Ignis sat up sharply. Noctis still sniffling, holding him close, but Prompto immediately perked up. “Gladio,” he gasped.

Gladio shouldered his way inside and Ignis swore he brought celestial light with him. “Come on,” he said. “Everyone’s out looking for you.” He shifted his gaze over to Ignis. “You shouldn’t have let him go off like that.”

Hot shame scalded Ignis’ cheeks. “I-I’m sorry,” he hiccupped, his relief a double-edged sword. “I’m really sorry.”

There was something akin to pity across his face. He stood over them, enviously tall and broad, so much better and bolder than Ignis. They were two years apart and practically different species. And still he remained gracious – offering his hand, he said, “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

With the barest moment of hesitation, Ignis grasped it. Gladio’s skin was an awe-inspiring tan, ebbing gentle heat. His grip was firm, reassuring, and Ignis was easily pulled to his feet. The boys came easily with him, stumbling a little, and Noctis looked uncertainty up at his sworn Shield. “I want my dad,” he said, voice wavering.

Gladio’s big hand rest upon his shoulder. There was some chipped black nail polish upon his thumbnail. “I know, kiddo,” he said seriously. “Let’s go.”

“But the ghost,” Prompto said uncertainly, even while he tangled his hand in Gladio’s favourite hoody. It was all their favourite, too – the softest wool and the scent of Gladio comforting beyond words. As a child Ignis often sought it first when they slept over at the Amicitia manor. But he was too big for that now, and Noctis often swept it first.

“There’s no such thing,” Gladio said confidently. “It’s all made up.”

Noctis’ brows furrowed. “But we heard it!”

Gladio looked down at him, a touch weary. His heavy brows sunk. “There’s nothing down here but the private infirmary and the washing rooms.”

“But…” Prompto interrupted but blustered. His cheeks were flushed bright beneath his dozens of freckles.

“Your dads are freaking out,” Gladio told him, reaching out to tweak his nose. “You gonna come out and make him happy?”

Immediately Prompto sprung to life. It was easy to perk him up with thoughts of his parents. “Yes,” he chirped, and grabbed Gladio’s hand. The other sought Noctis’ and encouraged him fully to his feet. The prince remained a touch shy, sullen, but Ignis touched his shoulder atop Gladio’s hand. Both were unbelievably warm. Ignis would feel the phantom blistering against his skin for hours after.

“Let’s go,” Ignis reassured him softly, adding his voice to Gladio’s as the king had asked of him.

Without an ounce of fear Gladio led them from the room. He peeked his head out of the door, shielding them from the darkness. Their shoes scuffed and otherwise the world was silent, long hallways only filled with their echoes. The ghost was gone – banished by Gladio’s light.

Ignis trailed behind, kicking away the unwashed sheets that tangled around his feet. He didn’t notice the small, dusty footprints he left behind. Noctis slipped out of the room behind Prompto and Ignis was close on his heels, letting the door click softly shut.

Gladio did not linger. He shortened his strides for their benefit and lightened his steps. They were led opposite the way they came, away from the awful sounds. He kept them far away from the ajar doors to Ignis’ relief. He followed at an arm’s length, ready to throw himself at the feet of any who accosted them.

But careful honey eyes turned back to him before narrowing. “Hey, keep up and grab Noct’s hand,” he called. “Make a human chain. Safer that way.”

Ignis hurried to obey. Noctis stuck out his arm expectantly and their hands laced together, fingers tucking closer. His palm was gross and sweaty. But the reassurance was second to none and Gladio’s instruction sweet.

“Good,” he said simply, and the praise was thrilling. It lit up Ignis’ chest like sunshine against skin. Eager to earn more he quickened his pace, smiling shyly. “Good going, guys. Now keep up, okay?”

They would seemingly endlessly wander around the halls. Often Gladio led them opposite to Ignis’ instincts but he never breathed a word – and they never backtracked once. Gladio kept his pace patiently slow and voice reassuring as he spoke – _great job, don’t worry, nearly there._

In Ignis’ eyes Gladio could work miracles. As brave as all the heroes from the stories, wise as the messengers themselves. His grin set butterflies in his belly, a feeling Ignis couldn’t yet understand despite how it plagued him. The younger boys looked to him with admiration and hope, and Gladio scarcely seemed to notice.

“Not much further,” he promised, and even the dank halls seemed all the lighter for his presence.

It indeed was not much further. Gladio picked up his pace and they all stumbled to meet him, muttering as familiar sounds met their ears and the halls sloping up the way they did near the entrance. Ignis’ heart fluttered with a new hope inspired, and they came to a set of heavy, familiar doors.

“Oh,” Noctis said in a rush and dropped both Ignis and Prompto’s hands. He scurried off and almost tripped over too long laces, throwing his small hands against the dark oak. He pushed as hard as he could and there was a crack of light between the doors, barely budging even as he strained. “Oh – Gladio-”

“Hold on, squirt,” Gladio said, and with one hand shoved the door wide open. Like it was nothing at all and Ignis burned with a mix of infallible emotion. Embarrassment and pride, excitement and something he could not identify. Gladio was strong and tall, everything Ignis wished he could be, and when Gladio turned back to look at him Ignis’ cheeks were scalding hot again.

Ignis followed the silent order. He followed closely as Noctis squirmed out into the familiar hallways and took Prompto’s shoulder to guide him out. The welcome was immediate. Blissful sunshine was warm on their faces. It streamed through tall glass windows, the black marble sparkling, and relief rushed out of Ignis in a sigh.

The door closed behind Gladio, who shoved his hands in his hoodie. He sniffed loudly. “You’re not supposed to go down there,” he said firmly. “We’ve all been told, constantly.”

Deep and glittering brown eyes watched Ignis hang his head. Ignis didn’t like watching the disappointment colour Gladio’s view of him. “I’m sorry,” he said again, barely capable of much else. “Noctis wanted to go, and I just followed.”

A harsh breath blew from Gladio’s nostrils. “You didn’t tell him no, then.”

There were tiny cracks in one of the panels. Ignis scuffed it with his foot. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s a mistake,” Gladio shrugged, watching Noctis rise up onto his tiptoes, eager to see the gardens beyond. The fear was long gone. As if it was never there at all. “It’s not the end of the world. Just remember, and don’t let it happen again.”

Cautiously Ignis peeked up at him. “Will Uncle Regis be angry?”

“Of course not,” he said, and his voice was newly soft. “He’s just worried.”

It was warm here. The touch of sunlight warmed his cheeks, and something heated up inside, making his belly flop. A strange creeping feeling grew worse when Gladio looked closely at him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Ignis said, and he didn’t enjoy lying. He consoled himself knowing that it was a half-truth. “I wasn’t scared.”

Gladio’s grin knew better. It spread from ear to ear. “Sure,” he said, and Ignis narrowed his eyes. “No, I believe you.”

“Gladiolus,” Ignis began, drawing himself up to his full height. After all this time he still only reached his shoulder. He steeled himself, mimicking the way his father stood, but Noctis bounded in between them.

“I want to see dad,” he declared. It was the most energetic Ignis had seen him in hours. A light sparked within his eyes and his clung to Prompto’s hand. “Take me!”

“Alright, kiddo,” Gladio said. His smile shrank into something modest, but omnipresent. Gladio was never far from a smile, and Ignis’ belly churned. “He’s over in the gardens, last I saw. Let’s go check out there.”

“Ok,” Noctis chirped, suddenly content again. Tiny hands shot out for Ignis and Prompto. “Come with me.”

“Of course,” Ignis replied and his arm was nearly pulled out of its socket by Noctis’ surge of energy. “Ah – Noct-”

“No running in the halls,” Gladio called after them in a poor and wavering impression of Noctis’ tutor, and Ignis couldn’t help but laugh as they tumbled down the hall. “C’mon, squirt, let’s go.”

In a mere matter of strides Gladio had caught up with them. His shadow crept along the floor and Noctis shrieked with laughter as his arms cocooned around him, hoisting him up. A surge of worry seized Ignis’ heart but Noctis threw his arms around Gladio’s neck, delighted. A happy flush coloured his cheeks. “Gladio! Put me down!”

“No way,” he declared, and thundered down the hall. Ignis struggled to keep up and Prompto lagged behind laughing all the while. “Express delivery of one lazy prince!”

Noctis’ laughter echoed down the hall. It was a din that Ignis knew all would be able to hear. In the moment he didn’t care. He took the corner as Gladio disappeared, shoes squeaking, and Gladio looked back.

A wild look had overtaken his face. A grin stretched ear to ear with joyful eyes to match. Gladio held their charge closely, calling for Prompto, and Ignis’ heart lurched and tumbled into the unknown.

_Ah_ , Ignis thought, sinking into the blissful warmth of adoration, his first crush, and prayed no one could see into the depths of his heart.


End file.
